Dan and The Great Palace Elevator
by SilkenBone922
Summary: Dan's sojourn to Upper East Side parties always seem to start the same way; trapped in a small enclosed place with a beautiful girl. New chapter up.
1. Dan and The Great Palace Elevator

A lesser man would have been delighted at his good luck

A lesser man would have marveled at his good luck. For the second time of his life, Dan Humphrey was trapped in an elevator with a beautiful heiress. Riding up the Palace penthouse to yet another Bass brunch, the elevator had screeched to a halt. And if this time the girl in question wasn't the lost love of his life the situation perhaps was even direr than the first. She was Blair Waldorf.

Her identity ought not to require any explanation. The former queen glanced heavenward with a frustrated sigh and leaned over him, in too much of a hurry to avoid contact with the rabies infested Brooklyn Boy, to snatch the phone out of its socket.

"It's Blair Waldorf," she snarled, "I would appreciate getting out of this lift before my father sues your ass." She didn't hesitate as Serena had done; there was something to be admired in how unapologetic she was of her social standing and how it mattered in New York.

When she moved to replace the mouth piece, a string of mild profanities escaping her perfect ruby lips, Blair noticed his presence for the first time.

"Cabbage Patch," she said, conversationally, mild amusement coloring her voice, "You were invited?"

He smiled his sardonic smile, that special one he reserved for their brief infrequent encounters. "Certainly, you know how Serena likes to keep an eye on her exes. I must say"- and he wasn't being sarcastic anymore-"I didn't expect to see you here."

Why was she at a brunch primarily hosted by her new archenemy and ex-lover? Blair's answer dated back to the bane of her existence as always; her mother. Dan remembered the memory of a stairwell and a broken queen and a parental betrayal that ran parallel to his own. So when she mentioned Eleanor, his face softened.

Their close proximity was claustrophobic. He noticed that Blair resigned herself to long wait ahead of them by sliding to the floor in much the same position he had found her that day last summer, crying over her show stealing best friend. The fashion show debacle of yore was sure to bring back painful recollections. She looked vulnerable, crumpled to the floor, her ice blue dress pooling around her as she clung to what last vestige of pride she had left.

So he took his place besides her realizing that the name Waldorf was no longer as popular fare at the Palace as it had once been. The doors would still open for the heiress but the Van der Basses upstairs may ensure that they didn't open quite as quickly as they once had.

Time trickled by and when it became clear that they had been trapped for quite a while already with no help on the horizon, Blair let out an angry sigh. "This," she grumbled to herself, "Is why I hate hotels."

"And penthouses," added Dan, "they have lifts too. Like the one you live in."

"Exactly," she muttered, "What is so wrong with stairs? Or houses for that matter? Why can't we all just live in proper houses?"

"You tell me." Dan was amused. After all she made the rules.

Blair grew quiet. Her eyes were a boulevard of broken dreams and she was struggling to not show it. This weeks dethroning had taken its toll on her and was possibly even more painful than the last because the traitor was the one person she'd always counted on. Serena was supposed to be her sister, her other half.

"Is that what you want?" he whispered, watching her face intently and realizing just how guilty he was of doing exactly what everyone else had done. Never noticing Blair in the shadows of Serena. He felt guilty because it was like his own morals were slapping him in the face. Sure, Blair never been nice to him but he'd never given her reason to.

"A New York brownstone," she replied, in a sudden confidential tone, "I always wanted a proper house, a proper home."

Long forgotten dreams were remembered. She and Nate and their summer home in Manhattan. They'd come up from Yale and Dartmouth to their own place, kissing on the front stoop and drinking coffee every morning in the Victorian style kitchen. But her prince was hung up on Vanessa of all people and had previously been fucking a cougar. She had heard rumors of a romance with little J in the works and hoped to God that those at least were mere fabrications of Gossip Girl. She didn't think she could endure any more humiliation than she already had.

A low chuckle resounded in the narrow shaft and Blair swung her head incredulously. Was Dan Humphrey laughing at her?

"I just didn't think you thought of the world outside the Palace as anything other than germ ridden and beneath you," he explained by way of apology, "And I cant see Chuck's limo gracing the parking lot of anything other than a hotel."

"What Chuck Bass may or may not wish to do is of no importance to me." She noticed her elevator companion rolling his eyes.

"You and Chuck wont be truly over until one of you kills the other," he stated, "All of the Upper East Side happens to privy to that little fact except you and Chuck ironically enough."

Blair looked a little taken aback, her dark eyes wide with surprise. She reached up and tugged at her curls, pulling them out of the clasp and letting them fall around her slim shoulders before resting her head against the wall behind, slowly contemplating his words.

"This summer when the two of you got back together," whispered Blair hurriedly, as if rushing to get something off her chest, "I told Serena that you two should work out your issues. Maybe if you'd tried that before getting trapped at my party you two would have made it and Serena wouldn't have been compelled to usurp my social status."

"I don't know; this seems like an ideal location for unexpected conversations," claimed Dan.

She laughed and he was glad to see that the look of despair had left her face. He'd peeled off his jacket and loosened his tie but the stiff shirt and waistcoat were grating his skin, the cuffs scratching his wrists. Blair's giggles subsided. Time trickled by and she was humming a Moon River, her voice rising through the dark shaft.

"Maybe we expect too much. "

Dan was reeling from the shock of her pairing herself with him. "How so?" He was cautious now.

"Can't you see it, Humphrey? We're both hopeless romantics. Wishing we could lose our illusions and leave our conclusion to a cynical world."

The truth of what she said hit him as much the Savage Garden reference. Who would have thought Blair Waldorf of all people could not only reach so insightful a conclusion but actually share it with him?

He nodded his assent, searching her eyes for the snotty girl who usually looked at him as if he were vermin. She seemed to have dropped the mask. His desire to comfort her took him by surprise and just as he was about to lean over all such tender moments came to a halt.

They both rose to their feet when the elevator lurched forward unexpectedly and Blair half tumbled into Dan's arms. The boy looking down at her had very dark eyes and his mouth was curved in a funny little smile that made Serena's infatuation with him seem a little less stupid. He quoted Keats indifferently; he was desperately romantic and hopelessly eloquent. He smelled of coffee and soap and he had a way of making sure the oxygen never left the room when he was around. He had a battered enough past to make him empathetic and understanding. And his bigotry, bad fashion sense and high handed morals made him just about flawed enough to make a girl not want to jump off the roof in his presence.

How could the world be so messed up that the one boy that could possibly be just about perfect for her was not only Serena's but also from Brooklyn? She shook her head gently and stepped out of the parting doors.

Dan watched her vanish into the crowd of party goers, swallowed up by the world to which he would never belong; the world that rejected him time and time again yet its inhabitants never quite stopped tugging at his heart strings. She was lost to him the moment she stepped over the threshold and yet he could have sworn she glanced back; mere seconds before melting into the throng. It was inconceivable that Blair Waldorf should do something so wholly out of character as shoot him a secret glance and secret wink. A shiver ran down his back.


	2. The Diffrentiation of Affection

He tries to pretend it's not an extraordinary circumstance. People do crazy things in elevators all the time- especially when they're trapped. Poor Brooklyn boys break up with blonde goddesses. James Bond gets fucked. Brilliant and hot doctors hear voices talking to them and terrorists plant bombs. Why should his exchange with Blair Waldorf be any stranger than all of those?

He knows why really. A- She's his ex's best friend. B- She's his enemy's lover. C- He hates her and D- she hates him.

He's desperately trying to rationalize. Which is really nothing productive than rambling except that he's the only one who has to hear it and occasionally Cedric. He knows there is only one reason that his exchange with Blair Waldorf is wrong but he can't bear to admit it. He can't stop thinking about her.

She is poison, plaguing his every thought. His eyes no longer seek out locks of gold in the school court yard but silken strands of brown, held in place with a red ribbon. The color of her eyes pops out to him from the excessively well dressed fray and he knows the heroine of his story no longer has eyes of the sea.

There is guilt in his voice when Serena calls and when she tells him she misses him. He misses her too, but here is something new growing within him, something old being broken. The heart that loved Serena van der Woodsen had filled to the brim and cracked from the inside out. In the pure and true world of his love for her there is no space for his attraction to Blair Waldorf.

He is weakened by the strain of thinking of her. Her gloried imperfections, her magnificent flaws are an obsession. His fascination stems for the same causes as his hate once did and he's more bewildered than he will ever care to acknowledge.

"Cabbage Patch." Her voice is soft and harsh all at the same time and he's looking up from his notebook and drowning in her chocolate eyes.

"Yes." He's thanking the heavens its not a stutter.

"Serena is worried about you," she shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, not daring to say "_I'm worried, too_,"

"She thinks you're moping," she clarifies, because he's gaping at her and his dark eyes seem to be staring straight at her lips, "Look, I know you loved her, but she's feeling guilty about the whole thing with Aaron and wanted met ask you if it was okay for her to date again."

He cuts her off with a sigh, his gaze drifting to the Ivy colored stone wall against which he and Serena shared their first ever kiss. Blair is being nice and it's scary. Much scarier than bitchy Blair and much less fun because he misses the easy way they insult each other.

She's propped one hand on her hip expectantly, chin jutted forward. "It's complicated."

She scoffs at the cliché and tells him that she isn't her to hear him spew out generic crap. She's on a mission and he doesn't ask exactly what that is and she never elaborates so they fall into the old habit of jousting and he rather hates it because her mouth is painted red again and it's moving in the most tantalizing ways.

He asks why she's really here and why she and Serena are friends again. "Could it have anything to do with sleepovers at the Bass mansion?" he wonders out loud and she gasps at his audacity. She walks away and pretends not to know him, just like she always does.

Rufus and Jenny smile sympathetically when Gossip Girl blasts a picture of Aaron and Serena kissing in Times Square. Apparently he convinced her dark haired friend well enough.

Vanessa Abrams kisses him two weeks later and he tries no to pretend her eyes are brown and she tries not to pretend his hair is spun of gold.


End file.
